


A Place to Heal - Christmas Interlude

by Annejackdanny



Series: A Place to Heal [2]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: AU, Christmas, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, Little Daniel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 12:06:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annejackdanny/pseuds/Annejackdanny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to "A Place to Heal" written for the 2011 Christmas Challenge on the LD list - stocking stuffer request by darcy</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Place to Heal - Christmas Interlude

**A Place to Heal**

**Christmas**

(written for darcy for the 2011 Little Danny Christmas Challenge – Request your own Stocking Stuffer)

  
  


_Winter had come with gentle snowfall and cold. The pond lay silent and frozen underneath a soft blanket of white. The mare, her coat thick and warm against the chill, snow and wind, stood by the hay rack. Her nostrils took in the sweet scent of the past summer days when the grass had been cut and piled up to dry. Her soft lips pulled out tufts of it and she chewed slowly, savoring the taste. The man had build the hay rack and the young one brought out two buckets everyday, one filled with apples and carrots, and another one with water. Ever since she had found the man she was never hungry anymore._

_Sometimes hares or an occasional doe joined her, lured out of the forest by the smell of hay and apples. She did not mind as there was always plenty of food._

_A faint noise, muffled by the snow, drifted through the stillness of the early morning hours. The sun was not out yet, but the moon was long gone. She turned her head, paused in her chewing, and did a tentative step away from the rack. There was never danger here, but being watchful and on alert was her nature, an instinct inherited from her wild ancestors._

_Discovering the source of the noise put her at ease and a low snigger of greeting escaped her as the young two legged crossed the path – now buried under snow – from the small house to her open coral. She was never trapped, never restrained. She would leave and return whenever she wanted. The gate was always open. However, more often than not she stayed close to the house these days._

_The young one put a finger to his lips and whispered to her. She nudged his shoulder when he stopped in front of her. He smiled and opened his hand. She had smelled the bread already and took it eagerly. It was hard and crunchy. She nudged him again, but he shrugged. There was no more._

_He pointed to the shed and said something in the language of the two legged. She could not understand the words. Some she knew; f_ ood, bread, apple, carrot. Beauty _– this was how the man called her._ Horse _– this was how the young one called her._ Come _– she knew that one, too. The word '_ No' _she disliked. It often meant restriction. The man was gentle, but he did not like her to walk around the house and tread on the deck. It was a big_ No _and waving arms. He also did not like to be pushed into the pond off the pier. She had only wanted to be friendly in greeting, but the two legged were so easily taken off their two feet. That was a big_ No _as well. He had used other words, too, when he had come out of the water, but she could make no sense of them. The young one had laughed until tears had leaked from its eyes. The man had muttered and wrung out his clothes and told them to 'get lost' … whatever that meant._

_Now the young was talking to her and she understood she had to come with him. With a longing gaze at her hay rack she followed him to the shed._

*******

Daniel pulled the sled from the shed and went back inside to look for ropes and the ax. He tied the ax to the sled with the ropes, careful to keep his hands away from the sharp blade. Jack had taught him how to chop wood this fall and he had helped with the firewood ever since. It had taken a long time until Jack had allowed him to do it alone, but he would be thirteen next summer. He wasn't a little boy anymore and he knew to be careful around knives and blades. Jack always worried Daniel might hurt himself and sometimes Daniel did not understand why. He was not clumsy. He rarely got hurt and he was getting really good at chopping firewood, too. He could whittle without cutting himself and he could help Jack with most of their chores. 

Jack joked it was an old habit to worry about Daniel and that old habits died hard. Daniel remembered he had been hurt a lot when he had been big. Inside and out. He had died. He had gone to Oma and stayed with her for a while several times. But he had always come back. Even the last time when he had not believed it himself, he had returned. Jack had helped him to come back from that dark place in his mind he had been hiding in. Maybe Jack worried so much because he feared Daniel might leave or get hurt that way again. But he had never felt more safe in his life. The cabin was a good place. Maybe Jack didn't understand that Daniel wouldn't get hurt anymore. As long as he stayed away from the Stargate, he'd be safe. 

He closed the shed door and bent down to pick up the rope that was attached to the sled. The horse looked at him from underneath her long white mane. “Come,” Daniel whispered. He didn't know why he was whispering, but it seemed appropriate to keep his voice low. The forest was still asleep. The sun far from going up. “Come,” he repeated. “We don't have much time.”

Jack was still asleep, or so he hoped. Daniel had been lying awake for a long time, thinking. Once he had made a decision he had tried so hard not to wake Jack as he'd slipped out of bed and tip toed to the door – only to hear his name being called softly. Jack worried because sometimes Daniel had nightmares. From that time when he had been in that dark place with Replicator Sam. 

Daniel had told Jack he was fine and Jack had looked at him and smiled. “Want to check your stocking, eh?” And Daniel had said yes, and that he wanted to feed the horse if she was there. Jack had told him to put his warm coat on and not to stay out for too long. Then he had gone back to sleep.

At least Daniel hoped he had.

He hadn't wanted to look into his stocking. There would be time for that later, when he was back. But curiosity had won and just before he'd slipped out the front door he'd changed his mind and gone back to where his white stocking with the embroidery of tiny blue sugar canes hung next to Jack's. There were stockings for Sam and Teal'c, too. They would come to visit them this afternoon. 

Daniel had opened his stocking and found Hershey kisses, oranges and a small bag of cookies. He had taken the cookies and one of the oranges with him in case he would get hungry. 

“Come,” he said again, patting the horse's thick neck coat. She sniggered and it sounded as though she wanted to know if he was supposed to leave this early in the morning. Daniel pulled in his lower lip and thought about it for a moment. 

“Jack hurt his foot,” he explained, still keeping his voice low. He didn't want to wake the forest. They trudged through the powdery snow, away from the cabin. “He slipped out on the deck and can't walk.” He paused and looked over his shoulder at the sled. The ax was secured and didn't slip. Good. 

“We'll be back before he gets up to fix breakfast,” Daniel said to the horse. “You are with me. He knows I'm not alone.”

She snorted softly and shook her head. 

“Yes,” Daniel said with determination. “Yes, we have to do this.”

He zipped up his warm jacket and made sure his hat covered his ears. 

He remembered he'd lived in a desert once. As a child. Before he had been a grown up. And he had lived in the desert on Abydos. He had never liked the cold as an adult. But here, his hands in warm gloves and his head covered by a thick woolen hat, he enjoyed the chilliness on his face and he breathed in deeply the crisp air. 

The smell of snow, earth and trees. Something he had never smelled in the desert. Desert air was dry and Cairo had smelled like spices and pollution and sun. The scent of Abydos was sage and something else he couldn't remember. The air in Minnesota was different. It was rich and fresh, like plants and wood and sometimes like fire when they were having a BBQ or when Jack burned leaves out in the back. 

Horse rubbed her nose on his back and Daniel smiled. He loved the scent of her as well. Loved it when her warm breath puffed into his neck like a caress. 

His boots left deep prints in the snow, cut through by the vats of the sled he was pulling behind him. Next to him, the horse left hoof prints. In the first gray light of dawn Daniel spotted other tracks, too. He paused here and there to watch the small tripping prints of a hare or the V shaped ones of a deer. He had learned to distinguish them from Jack. 

The hidden path wound itself through the pine trees. Too big. Too heavy to carry. He looked around worriedly. What if he couldn't do what he had gone out to accomplish? What if he had to come home empty handed? 

“We have to go to the meadow,” he told his companion. 

The wild flower meadow, his favorite place in the summer, was now a wide white field of snow. Daniel stopped as they reached the clearing. He could see the outlines of smaller trees on the other side. Silently, he and the horse walked across the pristine plain. The grayness of the early morning slowly morphed into light. Daniel imagined he was on top of a mountain and could see the first rays of orange sunlight on the horizon. One day, Jack had said, he'd take Daniel to Colorado Springs and up Pike's Peak so that they could see eagles. Maybe next summer. 

They reached the fir trees at the far end of the clearing and Daniel let go of the sled's rope. He and the horse surrounded the younger trees and Daniel wondered which one to take. Horse sniffed the fir needles and started nibbling on the branches. Daniel gently pushed her head away. He didn't know if eating tree needles was good for her stomach. Then again, she had lived out here for so long, she probably knew what was good for her. 

She gently pushed back at him and continued nibbling, her giant head framed by branches and fir needles. Daniel chuckled. 

He walked around the trees, trying to make his choice. They all looked pretty and they all were about the right size for him to chop. The horse liked the one she was chewing on, but Daniel didn't want to bring home a half eaten tree. 

Above them the sky turned into winter fire as the sun stretched to embrace the tree tops and for a moment Daniel was distracted by its natural beauty. He had continued walking among the trees while gazing at the red glowing sky and almost ran into a sturdy but short tree that wasn't much taller than himself. It was kind of bushy at the bottom and got smaller near the top, but it was even all around. It's needles were rich and green, not brown or brittle. 

He untied the ax and bit his lip in concentration as he began to work. It wasn't as easy as he had imagined. He had to crouch down and swing the ax with one hand while he had to hold up the lowest branches of the tree so they weren't in the way. He manged a couple of hits and his arm was starting to get tired already. He should have taken the saw instead of the ax... Daniel crouched lower, swung the ax as wide as he dared without cutting into his own leg or the branches, and hit the stem again and again. It wasn't really a big tree. It should work. It had to work. He sat back on his heels, the branches brushing against the top of his head.

After thinking about it for a moment he knelt on the ground, keeping the branches from getting in the way by blocking them with his own body. He picked up the ax, holding it very close to the blade so that the handle appeared to be shorter. He had a better angle this way. He pressed his other hand against the bark of the tree as he began to use the ax more like a hammer. It got stuck in the bark and he had to pull it out to strike again, but little by little the cleft in the stem became wider and the tree began to sway. Suddenly the pressure on the fir seemed to become stronger and when he peered through its branches, he almost laughed out loud. There was the horse shoving her ample bottom against the tree. 

Suddenly Daniel heard a low, cracking sound and the tree fell with a thud into the snow drifts. Horse startled and jumped out of the way, almost knocking down another tree. She shook her head and came closer again.

Daniel sat in the snow and stared at his beautiful tree. Or what was left of it. Where the horse had helped and pushed against it, some of the branches had broken and were now hanging sadly in a weird angle.

“Oh, no,” Daniel moaned. He scrambled to his feet and brushed the snow from the seat of his pants and jacket. Leaving the ax on the ground he examined his little tree. Maybe Jack could fix it? Could cut some of the branches off or shorten them? He looked at the stem and his heart plummeted. It wasn't cut neatly. It was all jagged and splintered. 

“It was so pretty,” he said sadly. “Now it's ruined.”

Hanging his head he wondered if he should just return home without it. Jack wouldn't mind not having a tree. He had said they'd make Christmas special without a tree. But Daniel thought it would be so much better if they had a tree to put the lights on. They had done that last year and it had been so pretty. A little bit like magic. They'd had real candles in the tree, with small golden candle holders and their light had flickered and reflected in the baubles and it had smelled like resin and wax and fir needles and Daniel remembered how he had loved it and he wanted it to be the same this year. Last year it had just been him, Jack and the cat. And the horse. But the horse had to stay outside and eat the apples and carrots they had given her. 

Inside, by the fire and with the tree, it had just been Jack, cat and him. But this year Sam and Teal'c would come and Daniel wanted them to see their tree. He wanted them to see how special Christmas at the cabin was. He did remember trees and tinsel from when he'd been big. At Jack's other house. The one in Colorado Springs. But it had not been as special. 

Horse placed her heavy head on his shoulder and nuzzled his cheek. He raised a hand and brushed it over her nose. It felt like velvet, so soft. 

Jack wouldn't mind not having a tree. But he might be worrying about Daniel by now. Realizing the sunset fire had left the sky and it was really light, he was startled by the thought that Jack was waiting for him at the cabin and couldn't even come after him because of his sprained foot.

“Have to go back,” he told the horse. 

She sniggered. 

Daniel picked up the ax and went back to the sled. But as he looked at the ropes he had brought, he decided to take the tree home after all. He had cut it, he couldn't just leave it out here to rot. Maybe Jack would know what to do with it. 

Taking a deep breath, Daniel pulled, pushed and heaved the small fir tree onto his sled. He used his ropes to secure it and when that was done he had to take a break. Remembering his cookies he went through the pockets of his jacket and pulled out the small bag. His thick gloves were peppered with fir needles and splotches of sticky resin, so he took them off. 

Daniel shared two of his cookies with the horse. “Don't tell Jack,” he warned her, then chuckled a bit. Like the horse could tell Jack about the cookies. But he knew cookies weren't good for her, so he put them away and peeled the orange. It was sweet and juicy, a good substitute for something to drink.

When he was done eating, he put his gloves back on and picked up the sled rope. The horse plowed through the snow next to him, her nose close to the ground like she was a dog sniffing out a rabbit. Then she jerked up her head and droplets of cold rained down on Daniel's hat. He grinned and she sniggered, then fell into a light trot. Daniel walked faster, pulling the sled across the clearing. 

Finding the path that led back to the cabin was easy, but the tree made the sled heavy and soon he slowed down. He was used to strolling through the woods a lot, mostly with the horse by his side, but walking through the snow in his winter boots was exhausting and his arms were becoming tired. 

It couldn't be far now. 

Soon he would be home and they'd have coffee and waffles for breakfast. He could almost smell the roasted beans Jack would grind in the small coffee mill they had ordered last winter. Daniel used to like coffee from real beans when he'd been big and he still loved it now. He checked his watch and frowned. Jack would be up by now, wondering where Daniel was. But he'd look for the horse and know they'd be out together. That was good. 

He stopped walking and shook out his arms. Who knew the tree was so heavy? It looked so small. Maybe it was too small? He suddenly feared it would not be as beautiful as the one they had last year. Especially if they had to cut off the broken branches. What if Jack didn't like the tree? 

Sighing, Daniel picked up the sled rope once more. He suddenly wished the horse could pull the sled. But she had no bridle and no headstall. Daniel wasn't even sure if the mare knew how to pull a sled. Sometimes he wondered where she'd lived before she had found Jack. Was there no one who missed her? Had she been a riding horse? A breeding horse? Jack thought she was a runaway. He said she might have come from far away since no one in the small town closest to the cabin seemed to know her. 

Jack had told him about animals who talked in human voices on Christmas Eve, only for one hour around midnight. Last Christmas he had snuck out to the coral at midnight to see if it was really true, or just a legend. But the horse had not been there and so Daniel didn't find out. This year he'd forgotten about it and now it was too late. 

He was pretty sure it was just a tale though. But the thought of being able to talk to the animals intrigued him. But maybe horse didn't want to talk to humans, even if she could.

As though the mare sensed he was thinking of her, she turned her head and snorted gently. Daniel clapped her neck, leaving fir needles in her mane. 

There! He could see the spot where the small path widened and led out of the forest into the clearing where their cabin was. He mobilized all his strength and pulled harder. He was sweating under his hat and didn't feel the chill on his cheeks and nose anymore. 

“Daniel!” 

He paused at the sight of the figure bundled up in scarf, hat and a thick orange jacket. Pumpkin color, that's what Jack called it. It had been a Christmas gift from Teal'c last year and while the color was blindingly bright Jack seemed to really like it.

“Jack!” he called back and picked up his pace again, guilt starting to nag at him as Jack was limping down the path. 

“Where the hell have you...” Jack's voice trailed off as the horse reached him first and shoved her nose into his chest to greet him. “Aht! Don't you dare knocking me on my butt, Missy,” he growled. 

She snorted and gently rubbed her head against the pumpkin jacket. Jack tousled her forelocks and Daniel finally managed to catch up with them. 

Jack scowled at him around the horse's head. “Are you okay, kiddo?”

He nodded and smiled, hoping to get one in return. Sometimes Jack got cranky when he worried too much. 

“Look, I know you don't talk much, but what's so hard about writing a note?” 

And sometimes he'd get sarcastic. 

Daniel felt his cheeks flush with heat as he looked at his boots buried halfway into the snow. “Forgot,” he mumbled.

“Go figure,” Jack huffed. “C'mon, let's get out of the cold. You've got some explaining to do, though. And I expect you to use all your brilliant linguistic skills. We both know you do talk very well if you put your mind to it.” 

Daniel shuffled his feet. When he had started talking again he found it convenient to revert back to silence or two word sentences from time to time... it had taken Jack a while to figure it out. But these days he was rarely fooled. Today, however, Daniel wasn't sulking nor pretending to be uncommunicative. 

He wanted... and now he didn't know how to... He felt his eyes sting with angry tears as he picked up the sled's rope again. 

Jack turned around and put a hand on the horse's withers for support for his hurt ankle. “I just want to know why you had to leave the house before sunset and stay away for two hours without letting me know you were going out.” The horse's ears went back and suddenly she swung her head around and pulled her lips away, baring her teeth at Jack. “Whoa! Hey! Knock it off!” 

Jack managed to stay on his feet and turned around to look at Daniel over his shoulder. “Coffee and waffles are cold, you forgot to feed the cat; and all that just because...” His voice trailed off and his eyes widened. 

He stopped walking and turned around so abruptly that Daniel almost bumped into him. Jack's hands came to rest on his shoulders, probably to steady both of them. 

“You cut a tree?” The words were spoken much more softly, the grouchy undertone gone. 

Daniel licked his lips. “It's Christmas.”

“You went out there all alone to...” Jack stared at the sled and the fir tied to it, as though he was seeing it for the first time. 

“We need a tree,” Daniel explained. “It's Christmas. You're hurt. You couldn't get one.” He frowned and quickly wiped away the dampness from the corner of his eyes. “I didn't do it right though. It's broken.” 

“It's perfect,” Jack said.

“You can't know that yet,” Daniel replied.

“Yeah, I do.” Jack smiled, his eyes twinkling. 

“How?”

“Because you cut it.” And Jack put his hand back on the horse's withers and together they stepped out of the forest. Smoke was coming out of the cabin's chimney and Daniel knew it would be warm inside. 

***

“Jack?” Daniel stood in the middle of the room, his quiet voice carrying over to the kitchenette where Jack put last touches on the turkey. 

“Yes, Daniel?” 

“Will Sam and Teal'c like the tree?” There was just a bit of an edge to his voice, not enough to worry, but enough to pay attention. It didn't happen much anymore, but when stressed or upset over something Daniel still tended to get tongue tied. He was used to Sam and Teal'c visiting, but having them here for Christmas was a new situation. Jack had learned to listen. Not only to the words, but also to the way they were spoken. Mostly. When he wasn't out of his mind with worry... he'd screwed up a bit there this morning. He should have known Daniel was okay. After all, his four footed babysitter had been with him. 

Old habits die hard though. 

“They're going to love it, buddy.” 

“It's not very big,” Daniel observed.

Jack had straightened the splintered stem and they had cut off the broken branches and given them to the horse to chew on. It wasn't a big tree, nope. But it was a pretty healthy looking tree. It was also an illegal cut tree, but Jack wasn't going to spoil the day by worrying about permits and laws right now. If someone found out and he'd have to pay a fee – so be it. 

“This isn't a very big house,” Jack said. “It doesn't need a very big tree. It fits just fine.”

“Oh,” Daniel said. “Yes, I think it does.”

Jack put the turkey into the oven. He had another hour before he'd have to turn it on. Wiping his hands on a tea towel he considered his KP duty done for the moment and joined Daniel by the tree. They had decorated it after a breakfast of cold waffles and re-heated coffee. White candles, glass baubles, straw stars and angels, golden ribbons and a glittering star-shaped tree topper. They had done a pretty good job getting it straight in the stand. No tilting to one side or the other. 

“Jack?” 

“Yeah?”

“Can we light the candles now?” 

“Now? But it'll be a while before Carter and T get here.”

“I know. I want them to smell it,” Daniel said, eyes bright with excitement. 

Jack missed his old friend from time to time, but there was so much to treasure in this kid. And one of the things Jack was constantly in awe about was the way this Daniel embraced anything he loved. With the same wide eyed wonder he used to embrace the whole universe – before all that crap had happened in his life. He wasn't so keen on making new experiences as he'd been as a man. Not so much into exploring the unknown anymore... yet. But once he'd gotten used to something and pegged his heart on it, he was a missile of enthusiasm and devotion. 

“Smell?” Jack had an inkling he was a bit slow on the uptake today. 

“Yes,” Daniel said. “The candles and the tree. But the candles need to burn a while. To get it right. The smell of... of...”

“The smell of Christmas?” Jack might be a bit dense at times, but this he got. He remembered that special scent from when he'd been a kid. When it had been normal to have real candles on the tree. Last year he'd done it because Harry's store was sold out on light strings and it had been too late to order one on Amazon. So he'd bought candles and candle holders, hoping not to burn the house down. This year Daniel had asked for the real candles again. It took a bit of extra attention to make sure the tree didn't catch fire, but they had a bucket of water close by and would turn them off during dinner. 

“Yes! Can we light the candles now, please?”

“Yeahsureyabetcha.”

“Can I...?”

“Sure, go ahead.” Jack watched as Daniel lit their little tree. One candle after another sprang to life and soon the flames were reflecting in the baubles and giving the impression of many many lit candles. 

A while later, they were on the couch, a plate of cookies between them and hot chocolate with cinnamon sticks on the small coffee table. The cat had curled up next to Daniel, purring herself into sleep. 

Soon it was time to bring Miss Beauty her Christmas treats; the reddest, best looking apples, handpicked at Harry's by Daniel, and a small bucket of grain mixed with molasses. And then Jack would turn on the oven and not long after that Carter and Teal'c would show up with presents, mulled wine and whatever else they'd bring to drink. They were going to have dinner, stay up late and have a good time. 

But right now Jack was content to just sit here and appreciate the tree Daniel had gone out to cut so they could sit here and bask in the smell of Christmas. 

Fin

   
  


  
  



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